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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147837">Tark the Matriarch (Reader-Insert/Multiple Orc)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfUruksAndOlogs/pseuds/OfUruksAndOlogs'>OfUruksAndOlogs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tarks of Mordor, Short Stories [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breeding, Childbirth, Exophilia, Explicit Sex, F/M, Imagines, Mating, Multiple Partners, Period Mentions, Pregnancy, Scenario, Teratophilia, imagine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:02:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfUruksAndOlogs/pseuds/OfUruksAndOlogs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thank you @letsbedragonstogether again, for letting me to write this down and for creating such unique title. This is a long one! All about how The Matriarch came to be.</p><p>The Matriarch belongs to a series of Tarks (Reader-Inserts) on my blog. Visit @ofuruksandologs on Tumblr to find out more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Human/Orc, Orc/Original Female Character(s), Orc/Reader, Uruk-Hai/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tarks of Mordor, Short Stories [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tark the Matriarch (Reader-Insert/Multiple Orc)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LetsBeDragonsTogether">LetsBeDragonsTogether</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The Feral Tribe.</p><p>Their savage ways are based after the wilderness they find themselves surrounded by. Creatures that act on instincts, that hunt and fight to survive.  They have hightened senses like smell and hearing. They were bestowed the gift of connecting with beasts of all kinds, even if with great difficulty. They are a pack.</p><p>But a pack is not able to continue growing without new members. And without new members, the pack might one day be extinct. Uruks and Ologs, as it is known by many, are born on the vats, under the watch of its keepers. But now…</p><p>Imagine that you’ve been found by members of this mentioned tribe. Scared, alone, hungry and weak, you were found in the wilderness, trying your best to survive. After the shocking encounter where you ran away to escape what seemed to be definite death, they tracked you down and took you in.</p><p>They began treating you as a pet first, “taming” you. While you were certainly offended by the idea of being kept like one, you were not complaining that you now had a comfortable bed and food and water. Whoever tried to harm you would meet the group’s fury. Uruks hated having their things taken away from them. You were willing to play along as long as you were safe and happy.</p><p>One day, it all changed. A week or two before, your monthly bleeding had ended, and of course, the whole scandal that erupted when it began stopped. Those Uruks weren’t expecting the red river between your legs and thought somebody had forced themselves upon you. Before any fights could happen as the tension escalated and accusations began flying around, you explained how your period worked. That calmed them down, and some even went as far as checking you once or twice a day. Some offered their help in taking care of you. Some offered extra snacks throughout the week.</p><p>Others just stayed away whenever you exploded in anger or cried, hormones going wild under your skin.</p><p>This time, it was different. Noses and eyes turned in your direction wherever you walked by. They sniffed you incessantly with darkened gazes, making lewd remarks, reaching out for a chance of touching your soft skin. They couldn’t get enough of you. They had this need to stay close, to grab, to hold. There were a few that dared to try and bite you, to mark you as their own.</p><p>Within a few days, the whole group had lots of infights. Because of you.</p><p>Because they could smell you ovulating.</p><p>All of this because your body was screaming it was ready for mating and procreating. You didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed because of it, or be flattered as you watched those orcs fight for the right to mate with you as if you were all animals in heat. …Technically, thinking about it, you were animals in heat.</p><p>You waited until one emerged victorious. It took a long time. And yet, he strode right up to you, body bruised and bleeding, grinning widely as sweat dripped from his thick skin. His pupils were big and round with adrenaline and lust. The bulge under his loincloth made his intentions clear to you. The winner was itching and aching, wanting nothing more than throw you onto a pile of fur and pound into you until you were fucked silly.</p><p>Instead, you took your time to inspect this potential new mate, to see if he’s truly worthy. You led him to the nearest river to clean his body of dirt and blood. As you took him into your nest, you were quick to halt him from going straight to business, and spent your time talking about the process before anything else could happen. He seemed frustrated, but complied to your wishes and restrained himself.</p><p>That night, once you were both in agreement – “Be careful with your claws, my skin is thinner than yours. I am easy to bruise. Please don’t be too rough.” –, he mated with you through the night until you were spent. He made love to you unlike any other human might have done. His tongue mapped your neck, your breasts, your curves and wet folds, nails running down your sides to mark you with thin lines. Your womb was filled more times than you could count, dripping down onto the furs beneath and tinted them with white.</p><p>The following days were the same way – he’d mate with you once or twice until you were once again full with his seed. You kept to yourselves during that time, food being delivered directly to your tent by another member of the group. On breaks, your new mate would gently caress you, staring at you with a fond smile and a twinkle to his eyes.</p><p>You soon stopped ovulating. You had freedom to roam about whenever you wanted, your mate in tow as you happily went back to your usual routine. Except that your usual routine had been ruined.</p><p>The Uruks and Ologs that once had treated you as a pet now treated you as one of them, if not as if you were a treasure to be carefully taken care of. There suddenly was respect towards you, more than you’ve ever received before. Feral members left and right greeted you with joy. You hadn’t expected such a thing, and yet, once more, you were willing to play along. You were safe and happy.</p><p>You were NOT safe and happy once the morning sickness came.</p><p>Mornings when the first thing you did after getting up was throwing up last night’s contents into the nearest container or on the floor. Mornings when you were so tired you would refuse to get up at all. Days when you had severe mood swings, yelling and crying at poor individuals that barely did any harm. The bloating, the sudden cravings, the nausea at the smell of certain things, the soreness of your breasts.</p><p>Your mate knew it way before you. You had forgotten his nose was way better than yours in some aspects, so you found his indifference towards your illness strange. You didn’t notice how his eyes were much brighter, how his grin seemed wider, how his touch lingered on your stomach for longer moments.</p><p>It didn’t take you too long to realize that your belly began growing with new life.</p><p>Others started taking distance from you, out of respect for you and your mate’s relationship. Gifts were discreetly deposited in your tent, a great hoard of new clothes and accessories that were akin to the tribe’s motif. New furs, freshly harvested from animals, and more food and water to satisfy your needs. </p><p>Ever since you found out you were pregnant, your mate became way more protective, more possessive, thus the reason why no one else would come near. Just like a wild animal, he was protecting his new family from all harm, as well as other members of his species that could potentially steal you away from him. And just like a wild animal, he was acting out of instinct.</p><p>Did Uruks and Ologs even realize what was happening? Did they understand the prospects of pregnancy, of how babies are made and how to take care of one? Had they ever seen a baby before? If they hadn’t, they certainly were in for a surprise.</p><p>Five months had passed, and your stomach had grown big enough to hinder you from any activities that required hard work, mating included as your mate had to be even gentler with you. Although only half of a normal human pregnancy had passed, you were sure that the baby would be born by then.</p><p>The contractions began as you laid down to sleep. The water broke and spilled onto your nest, alerting the male beside you. A healer and a Vat Keeper were called in a hurry. Why a Vat Keeper? Maybe because you had once explained how babies were born to your mate at least once, to make sure he knew what would happen. Perhaps he thought you’d need a Vat Keeper to get the baby out, as it was his job to bring new warriors into the world. As for others of the tribe, they stood outside with concern and panic after being warned to stay away, thinking you had been harmed somehow.</p><p>With deep breaths and panting hard, you instructed the healer on how to cut the umbilical cord and pull out the placenta, as well as teaching the Vat Keeper how to make the baby take it’s first gulp of breath. Tools were gathered and thoroughly sanitized and sterilized, a warm bucket of water had been placed nearby. Long pieces of clean cloth dubbed as towels.</p><p>It hurt to deliver a hybrid baby. You screamed your lungs out, squeezed the life out of all of the three’s hands and managed to break one of the Vat Keeper’s fingers. He wasn’t disappointed at all. If anything, the old Uruk was overjoyed to discover you were capable of it. And when the time to push came, the look on their faces would be hilarious if you weren’t in so much pain. They were not expecting the blood, wet, new member of the family to come out through your vagina, nor they expected it to be so small.</p><p>The small pitched cries echoed through the camp, which silenced the voices outside of the tent. There was the deep smell of blood, but also a familiar but foreign smell. The urge to burst into your nest was great. Your mate yelled in surprise and shock.</p><p>A small fully developed girl had been born that day, healthy and chubby.</p><p>A girl with your eyes and hair, and your mate’s ears, nose and skin. To think a girl would be born into an all-male species was absurd. But it happened. And she was your daughter.</p><p>The birth of the baby was preceeded by days of staying inside, you and your mate taking care of the new infant as the tribe was given a long lecture led by the healer and the Vat Keeper on how babies are made and born. They learned that if they wished to visit, they’d have to be clean and rid of any possible diseases or illnesses, or they’d compromise your daughter’s health. She was part of the tribe too, after all.</p><p>Meanwhile, your mate learned how to be a father for the first time. He was afraid of harming the pup, sometimes refraining from holding her until you convinced him. He took turns watching her when you were too exhausted, gaze never leaving the small figure on the hastily-made crib. He was startled whenever she made any noises, panicked when she cried.</p><p>And he began loving her unconditionally as time went by, as he watched her grow fast.</p><p>He would sometimes stare down at your child with a loving gaze. He’d tickle her small feet or belly to make her laugh. He’d pick her up in his arms and give her kisses on her chubby cheeks. Fed her when she was finally capable of eating mushy foods. Soothed her when tears rolled down her face. Cried a bit himself when she took her first steps. Cried a lot when she said her first word, although you weren’t very delighted to hear a garbled version of the word “shrak” coming out, though.</p><p>One night, after your daughter fell asleep, your mate turned to you from his semi-permanent post with arms perched on the crib, hand caressing the soft thin hairs of her head, eyes watery and cheeks wet with tears. He whispered, careful not to wake the baby up.</p><p>
  <em>“She’s a part of me, ain’t she? And a part of you. We made her. She’s so small and weak. I love her. And I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me this.”</em>
</p><p>You wiped his tears away with a smile, holding him close to your breasts as he weeped in joy, muttering his gratitude while embracing you tight.</p><p>The day your daughter finally was ready to meet the group was a special one. You dressed her up with the finest furs you could find, painting her face and putting small beads into the few locks of hair she had. She tried pushing your hands away, grumpy that strange things were being placed all over her body. Your mate had his freshly cleaned armor on, and you were looking spectacular. Fur-lined shawl covering your shoulders, feathers on your hair, a wooden circlet upon your head.</p><p>Seeing everyone after such a long while was worthy waiting for. The tribe was respectful not to come too close nor make loud sounds, so they wouldn’t scare the child. Your daughter, however, had her eyes roaming everywhere with wonder, wanting to let go of your hand and stumble her way to the nearest Uruk. When she finally slipped away, you were happy to see her finally satisfying her curiosity when she finally touched the leg of a big Olog who smiled down at her and crouched to her level. Now that your daughter had learned the basics faster than any human baby could, you were certain that she would easily find her own place.</p><p>As for yourself, you were met with soft words and lots of affection. The respect for you had grown for all the four months you’d been kept hidden inside your nest. You found out that, during your absence, the entire tribe had titled you “The Matriarch”, for there was no other Tark they’d protect, love and respect other than you. They were willing to place your desires and need above their own.</p><p>They offered to create a clan with you, as long as you were willing to bear more children.</p><p>You felt shock. You felt flattered. You felt… Confused and intimidated and slightly offended. You weren’t a baby-making machine! You weren’t breeding cattle! You were a person who had rights and opinions and who knew your own worth. And they were quick to reassure you that yes, you were indeed. They wouldn’t force you to have children. If you accepted their offer, they promised to work hard to take care of you and the pups all together, to accept their duties as fathers. You’d make the rules, as you had shown them there was another alternative on how to live other than being bred in the vats and fighting for some lord that only cared about winning a war and taking over the world.</p><p>You had shown them that they could have a real life, with a real family. If you’d have them, of course.</p><p>A month passed by. You had taken up the title of Matriarch, and had taken yet another mate. When the blood began again, you prepared yourself for your next ovulation period. Your first mate had been incredibly supportive when confronted by you, having discussed it with the others before. While he still loved you and loved the child you bore, you were free to do whatever you wished.</p><p><em>“Wouldn’t be right to keep you to myself, as much as I’d like to. Wouldn’t be fair, even. Don’t worry, I’ll be taking care of the little one.”  </em>He grinned as he held your daughter in his arms, bouncing her up and down to make her laugh.</p><p>Your new mate took up on the duty of loyal mate and father as the one before, feeding you with the food he gathered from hunting and harvesting. The new pup took the same amount of time as your firstborn, and a boy was born into the tribe.</p><p>As you took on mate after mate, bearing child after child, the clan grew and prospered. The children born were looked after by their own fathers and other members that soon found themselves caring for the little ones as well. When they grew older enough, they began training with veterans. They went on hunts with elders, fought each other and together side by side, welcomed new siblings with excitement.</p><p>Word began spreading of your clan as your numbers got higher, soon hearing about other tribes doing the same and taking other humans as Matriarchs as well.</p><p>You became The Matriarch.</p><p>Loved, respected, revered.</p><p>A title that symbolizes new life and fertility, of good things to come.</p>
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